


eat me, drink me

by ghosthunter



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, it's not quite a feeding kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 11:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosthunter/pseuds/ghosthunter
Summary: The last thing Eddie is expecting when one of the trainers says, “Hold onto this,” is to have a soft pretzel shoved into his hands.





	eat me, drink me

**Author's Note:**

> man i found out that keith snacks on the bench at the beginning of the season and that they made eddie hold a pretzel for him and obviously i've been holding onto this idea since then because eddie had season ending surgery and the devils traded keith blah blah whatever, we all cope with the trade deadline in different ways.
> 
> thanks to jarka for the beta.

The last thing Eddie is expecting when one of the trainers says, “Hold onto this,” is to have a soft pretzel shoved into his hands.

What, exactly, is he expected to do with this pretzel while he’s sitting on the bench? He knows that he’s giving the trainer a bewildered look, but the trainer has already moved on to doing something else. So Eddie just sits there, his baseball cap pulled low on his forehead, chewing his gum, and holding onto the pretzel.

It finally makes sense the first time they go to a TV timeout, and Keith skates over to the bench. He pushes his mask back onto his head and flashes a smile at Eddie.

“Hey,” he says. “You got my pretzel?”

“What?” Eddie says, even though he’s sitting there absolutely holding onto the pretzel. Then he realizes what Keith just asked him. “Oh. You want me to like. You want the whole thing? You want me to rip some off?”

Keith laughs at him, then shakes his blocker off, reaching out to where Eddie is holding onto the pretzel, rips a hunk off, and pops it into his mouth.

“Thanks, bud,” Keith tells him around a mouthful of pretzel, then skates back to the net.

That’s the first time. It takes three more games before Eddie gets bold and just holds up the last piece of the pretzel and pops it into Keith’s mouth himself. Keith smirks at him as he chews, then drops his mask back down and skates back to the net.

The next time, Eddie holds up the piece of pretzel and Keith leans in to take the piece. Except he doesn’t just take it, he locks eyes with Eddie and wraps his tongue around Eddie’s fingers in the process of taking the pretzel.

Eddie’s brain fucking short-circuits. His fingers are a little wet and Keith is still looking at him, only it’s not the way Keith normally looks at him. But Eddie’s fingers have never been in Keith’s mouth before, and he hasn’t really ever thought about putting his fingers in Keith’s mouth, but for the rest of the game all he can think about is putting his fingers back in Keith’s mouth.

Among other things.

The locker room is loud after they win. It’s fast for Eddie to clean up and dress, since he didn’t play, while everyone else is yelling and laughing and cleaning up. Keith meets his eyes as he heads toward the showers. He doesn’t say anything, but Eddie gets it, he thinks. He’s going to stay, then if Keith has something to say…

What Keith actually says to him, when he comes back from showering and is half changed into his suit, is, “Do you want to grab something to eat?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at Keith then. Keith grins at him, then shrugs into his suit jacket.

“So dinner, or no?” Keith asks him.

“Where do you wanna go?” Eddie asks.

They end up at a bar not that far from Keith’s apartment, splitting a plate of fries with burgers and beers. Eddie’s dying to know where the thing about the pretzel came from.

“I’ve been eating stuff on the bench a long time,” Keith says, shrugging. “Sometimes I’m bored. I used to have, like, barbecue sunflower seeds in a water bottle. Or popcorn.”

“Where do you spit the shells?” Eddie asks.

“Back in the bottle,” Keith says, grinning.

“That’s gross,” Eddie says.

“Hockey’s gross, man,” Keith says. Eddie drags a fry through the puddle of ketchup on the plate, then holds it out to Keith.

Keith pauses for a second, then leans forward to take the fry from Eddie. He stares Eddie down as he does it, their eyes locked, and he takes his time to swirl his tongue across Eddie’s fingers to pick up all the salt left behind.

“You wanna come back to my apartment,” Keith asks, his voice quiet.

“Yeah,” Eddie says.

They finish dinner and head back to Keith’s, and have another beer before ending up making out on Keith’s couch. They’re both too tall and skinny to fit, beards scratching at each other as they kiss. Keith’s hair is soft between Eddie’s fingers as he digs his hands in, relishing the tiny noise that Keith makes into his mouth when he pulls a little harder.

“Do you want - “ Keith starts, but Eddie stops the words with his tongue. They kiss for a while longer, until Keith shifts his hips and makes it abundantly clear that he wants more than just making out on the couch. Which Eddie is fine with. But they’ve got to get out of their suits.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else?” Eddie asks, letting his head fall back to the couch cushions. It’s not his house, but he figures Keith won’t mind if he’s a little forward about it.

“You think I’m gonna put out on the first date?” Keith asks, grinning down at him.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, grinning back.

“Well, you’re right, but I’m gonna make you put in work,” Keith says, and rolls off of Eddie, standing up and tugging Eddie up to follow him. They get distracted, standing there pressed together. Eddie grips Keith by the waist of his pants. “Come on,” Keith says.

He’s unbuttoning his shirt as he leads Eddie down the hallway. He leaves it in a puddle on the bedroom floor and reaches out for Eddie, hooking his fingers in the waist of Eddie’s pants and pulling him in close, kissing Eddie again even as he works on the buckle of Eddie’s pants to get them off.

They sprawl across Keith’s bed - it’s unmade, and they’re naked, and Eddie’s fingers are tangled in Keith’s hair again. It’s different, sprawled out on the bed skin to skin, the blankets tangled and lumpy beneath them. Keith’s skin is hot and his cock hard pressed up against Eddie and his mouth is hot on Eddie’s neck, and yeah, maybe they’re not gonna fuck tonight, but they’re getting off some way.

“Hey,” Eddie says, untangling a hand from Keith’s hair. “Hey.”

Keith lifts his head slightly, looking at Eddie. Eddie reaches out and touches his first two fingers against Keith’s lips.

It takes Keith a second, but then he grins, and opens his mouth, letting Eddie slide those two fingers inside. Unlike in the diner and on the bench, Keith’s tongue swirls around Eddie’s fingers, and suddenly Eddie finds himself wondering if this is what it’s like when Keith’s giving head, hot and wet and his tongue working at Eddie’s fingers.

Eddie gets distracted by the sensation, the fascination of watching Keith’s mouth wrapped around his fingers, eyes closed and lashes fanned out across his cheeks. He forgets what he was going to do, which was not lie here and let Keith fellate his fingers.

He pulls his fingers away from Keith and Keith finally opens his eyes, looking up at Eddie. Eddie moves his hand down, wrapping spit-wet fingers around both their cocks and Keith kisses him again, his lips wet and swollen from sucking on Eddie’s fingers.

“Next time,” Eddie says, his voice lazy and quiet in the afterglow, once their breathing has leveled out. “Next time I want you to blow me.”

Keith laughs. “I do like to put things in my mouth,” he says, even as he’s rolling away to get up.

“Believe me, I noticed,” Eddie calls after Keith as he slips into the en suite bathroom. He can hear Keith laughing over the sound of the water running.

**Author's Note:**

> keeping track of all my terrible ideas on twitter @ notedgoon


End file.
